


Damnation

by nowhere_dawn_death_phan



Series: TMA Universe Fics [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Sorry Not Sorry, They’re all suffering, Torture, everyone suffers, repeated character deaths, set in my tma au universe but isn’t canon to the main story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowhere_dawn_death_phan/pseuds/nowhere_dawn_death_phan
Summary: Avatars of different entities working together is rare but not unheard of. There are any number of horrific combinations that Owen could come up with if he tried to think about it for long enough. But The Corruption and The Hunt? He thinks that might just be the worst.
Series: TMA Universe Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977334
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Damnation

The pop and crack of dislocating limbs and breaking bones reverberates in Owen’s head, echoing off the thick walls. The wet, warm sound of Ianto’s neck snapping, a grunt of exertion from Jack followed quickly by a cry torn from a dying mouth as his ribs fold inwards and pierce his heart. Gwen panting heavily, trying to claw her way across the stone floor before the bat swings down again, splitting her skull. Tosh is pressed into the far corner, and though it’s too dark to see her, Owen can hear her muttering to herself. He doesn’t know what finally does her in, and he’s grateful for it.  
He lies in the darkness and filth in the opposite corner, maggots burrowing into his flesh, his hair tangled with the moss and the rot.  
Footsteps. And Owen closes his eyes though it makes no difference. They can still see him. They can always see him.  
Avatars of different entities working together is rare but not unheard of. There are any number of horrific combinations that he could come up with if he tried to think about it for long enough. But The Corruption and The Hunt? He thinks that might just be the worst.

It’s Ianto that gasps back to life first, coughing and spluttering like a drowning man. He rasps Owen’s name but the doctor has no words of comfort to offer him. They lost their meaning a long time ago.  
Jack claws his way out of the darkness next, but he’s sensible enough to be silent about it. The only way Owen can tell is by the twitching of the foot that pokes out from the shadows.  
Gwen sighs softly as she returns to the land of the living, like opening her eyes is nothing but a bitter disappointment. Owen can’t blame her.  
Tosh takes the longest, she always takes the longest. Owen can’t remember the last time he saw her, can’t image what she looks like. But if it’s anything like the others, he doesn’t think he wants to.

They’re caked in days or weeks or months of old blood and brain matter and whatever else it might be.  
“That was fun.” The avatar of the Hunt says. His voice is a low growl. “But not as fun as last time.”  
“They’re wearing out.” The voice of the Corruption avatar makes his skin crawl, it sounds like nails on a chalkboard.  
It’s some sort of game for them. The Hunt avatar tears them apart, and the Corruption avatar knits them back together. It happens four or maybe five times a day, it’s been happening four or five times a day for as long as Owen can remember now. They die over and over and over again. But not him. He just watches.  
It’s nice; being one with the dirt and the insects and the mould. If he turns his head and closes his eyes then he can choose not to see it, but he can’t pretend to ignore the sounds. 

Gwen’s skull, Jack’s ribs, Ianto’s neck, Tosh’s spine. Round and round in circles they go, and the avatars in charge laugh and laugh and laugh. Owen feels the bile rise at the unmistakable sound of chewing, of the drip of blood and the stench of decay. Cannibalism. Not rare for an avatar of the Hunt but a new development for this one. 

“Knock knock.” A gentle tapping on his forehead. “Anyone home?”  
The Hunt avatar laughs, a wild sound of something more animal than human and Owen cracks open his eyes.  
The Corruption avatar is smiling down at him, half decayed, one eye trailing down its cheek, it’s skin flaking and peeling in sheets, revealing layers of sinew and muscle and bone in some places. It taps a festered knuckle against Owen’s forehead again, and smiles a toothless smile. “What do you think? Time for another round?”

Owen wants to spit in its face, to curse it out, but he doesn’t have the will and he doesn’t have the energy. “Maybe not today.”  
He’s barely finished his sentence when again comes the splinter of breaking bone, a gasp of surprise that he knows can only have come from Tosh.  
“Pity.” The Corruption avatar says as it stands. “We’re only just getting started.”


End file.
